


Won’t You Smile a While For Me

by theshipsfirstmate



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: F/M, Season 4 fic, because of the saras
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-11
Updated: 2015-11-11
Packaged: 2018-05-01 03:31:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,372
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5190539
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theshipsfirstmate/pseuds/theshipsfirstmate
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Season 4 Diggle/Team Arrow fic. </p>
<p>“That it had been Sara’s birthday on the same day her namesake’s soul had been reborn, however, was something even he couldn’t have seen coming.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Won’t You Smile a While For Me

_A/N: Because@sailorslayer3641 gave me Sara feels, both Lance and Diggle. And then I had birthday questions. Maybe playing a leeeettle fast and loose with the timeline, forgive me._

_Title from[“Sara Smile”](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Red3R17FlUQ) by Hall & Oates. Because, c’monnnn. (Imagine Daddy Diggle dancing with his baby girl to this song and tell me you’re not smiling.)_

**Won’t You Smile a While For Me**

John Diggle is a man who’s used to things not going as planned.

Even before his days in the Rangers – where he had a unit leader whose motto was “Screw hoping for the best. Hope for the worse, expect the worst. Anything else will be a pleasant surprise.” – his life has always been slightly less than conventional in terms of the amount of ready-alertness required.

From keeping up with a brother who always seemed to be in five places at once (until he wasn’t anywhere at all) to a routine security gig that turned into a life-defining mission (effectively ending his life as a Freelancer), to marrying Lyla in camo (and then once more in a tux), he’s learned to, at the very least, expect the unexpected. (And expect it to come swinging.)

That it had been Sara’s birthday on the same day her namesake’s soul had been reborn, however, was something even he couldn’t have seen coming. 

It’s other-worldly, if watching that kid in Central City run at light speed is crazy, this is something even further beyond. And yet, somehow, she’s back, the other Canary. He doesn’t question it, just smiles sympathetically as Lance grabs hold of his daughters like he’s never going to let them go.

He blames the shock at Sara’s return for why it takes them all nearly a week.

“Lyla’s back in town,” he announces when they all return to the lair one night, the slightly-rehearsed speech echoing louder than expected off the glass case where he’s hanging his helmet. “We’re doing a little thing tomorrow night, a late celebration for Sara’s birthday, you’re all invited.”

The room falls silently still, save for Felicity asking absently if she’s still too small for Legos, and when he turns back around, he expects to have to meet Oliver’s serious eyes, to reassure him that he’s included in the invite. But his friend’s gaze is turned towards…Sara. Sara, who’s looking at him like she’s seen a ghost.

“ _Sara_?” she asks quietly, though she looks almost wild in the eyes. “That’s your….that’s your daughter?”

Ten eyes snap wide at the same time, remembering one thing they collectively forgot. Sara’s are already there.

* * *

He remembers getting the call in the hospital, that night. Felicity, gulping through her tears, telling him how Laurel had found her, had seen her fall. She had called him off before he could offer to come in, and he had been surprised to find that he wasn’t ready to. For the first time in a constantly-vigilant life, he had the strangest _calm_ come over him, and though it was tinged with this recent despair, it was also heavy with contentment.

He had pulled a seat up to Lyla’s hospital bed then, where their baby girl was nestled in beside her. He folded his arms, leaning against the mattress next to his daughter, and he told them both the story of The Canary. When he finished, all it took was one look up at Lyla before he was calling the nurse back to fill out the birth certificate

* * *

He just figured Laurel, Felicity, _someone_ , would have told her by now, and judging by the expressions on everyone’s faces, they all thought pretty much the same thing. They deal in such grandiosity now, sometimes the minutiae fall through the cracks.

“It is,” he finally answers Sara, nodding his head and clearing his throat, which seems to snap everyone out of their daze a little. “We’d love it if you’d come and meet her.”

Sara’s head drops immediately, almost all the way to her chest. It’s so strange, how she looks like a memory, but she’s right here in front of them, a year and change’s worth of history spilling from reserves he had thought were locked away for good.

“I don’t know,” she answers, even softer, looking up with cautious eyes. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”

He’s spent years of his life amidst trained killers of all kinds but John Diggle’s never met another group of people who could dish out so much violence while remaining so worried about their capacity to hurt.

“It’s a family event, Sara,” he tells her softly, and he doesn’t miss the way she reacts to her name. “It’ll be fine, it’s just us. Please come.”

The blonde just nods, but she looks less wary this time, and he takes that for what it is. The first time she came back from the dead, she was _Ta-er al-Safar_. This time, she’s Sara Lance, but just barely, she’s still a little loose around the edges. It can’t be any easier, he knows a thing or two about reinvention.

“Okay so, six o’clock,” he addresses the room as he grabs his bag and turns to go. “Oh, and Felicity, no Legos, not unless they’re the big kind.”

“Aw, those are no fun.” He can’t help but chuckle at the crestfallen face she gives him before he turns to the door, and he makes a mental addition to his holiday gift list.

* * *

“She’s got ‘Mama’ and ‘Papa,’ pretty much down,” he tells Oliver proudly the next night, as he helps him set dishes out on the dining room table. The baby’s strapped to his front, babbling happily, and Felicity and Lyla are hard at work in the kitchen, unloading takeout boxes. “Now we’re working on her name.”

It is, of course, at that moment, that Laurel opens the apartment door, her sister following behind.

“Sa-wa!” the baby cries out happily, and everyone freezes again. This time not even Felicity breaks the silence.

Digg realizes in that moment exactly how tense Sara must have been about this, because he watches all of it drain away in an instant, replaced by a smile he’s never seen on her face before.

“Hi there!” she looks down at his daughter like they’re old friends, which is heartwarming, but not as surprising as the baby’s reaction. She kicks against his chest, reaching her arms out for her namesake, who takes a few steps closer before pausing to take her cue from Diggle.

As babies go, Sara’s basically a dream, he knows this. She’s content in almost anybody’s arms, Thea calls her “totally chill.” He’s never once seen her clamor for someone other than he and Lyla like this.

“Sa-wa!” She says it again, and he doesn’t think twice about handing her over. Sara cautiously takes her in her arms, and he’s not sure the whole room doesn’t hold their breath when two of them lock eyes for a long moment. When he glances over to where Oliver was standing, he sees that Felicity snuck her way out of the kitchen to tuck herself tightly under his arm. He turns back to the kitchen to lock eyes with Lyla, and it’s the same kind of moment.

The baby cries their name out again, knocking chubby fists into Sara’s cheeks. “That’s right,” she tells her. “Sara. That’s you, and that’s me.”

John Diggle knows it’s been a bad year, it’d be insane to deny that. Three of the people in this apartment have died, or close to it, and come back to life within the last six months, to say nothing of those that had been left behind to pick up the pieces. But this year also brought him his daughter, and bonded him even more permanently to the woman he’s loved for so many years.

So, as he watches the girls sit in a circle on the floor after dinner, laughing in time with his baby girl’s giggles as she toddles between them, when Thea helps her blow out the single candle on her cupcake, when he catches Oliver staring with the same kind of grateful wonder he feels in his heart, it’s hard to feel anything but glad that things never quite go as planned.


End file.
